


the Glass.

by ArticulateOx



Category: Ox writes
Genre: Gen, Origional - Freeform, Sci-Fi, Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-22 14:35:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11382195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArticulateOx/pseuds/ArticulateOx
Summary: A short retelling of a classic fairy tale (BECAUSE THAT'S ORIGINAL)





	the Glass.

**Author's Note:**

> AO3 isn't too original-work friendly, but eh, I can't post it anywhere else, and it's an old one.  
> Anyway, here's Wonderwall.

James was caught in a frenzy. How much longer, how much harder would he have to fight? The Mirror Trap was getting to him, making him nauseous. Not only could he see countless reflections of himself at any given time, but the same was true for the Mirror Guards. He was never sure if ten was only one, or one hundred. They were easy to cut down--they barely dulled his sword--but once they shattered, there seemed to be glass fragments on the walls and ceiling as well as the floor. As he had stumbled down a hall at one point, he had caught himself against a wall, and flinched at the fragments he saw under his palm, even though somewhere in the back of his head there was an awareness that they were really under his feet. Fortunately, he didn't have the time to concentrate on how idiotic the flinch was, because behind him were more or those cursed, flat, reflective knights.  
He had lost his way too many times in this iridescent maze. He could feel his head clouding, and his stomach tightening from the uncertainty as to whether or not the floor existed. One flicker caught his eye, he turned and slashed at whatever it was. Another flicker, and he smashed it with the hilt of his sword. Another flicker, he shifted on the ball of his foot and shoved his sword straight into the glint.  
There was a falter in the rhythm of the brawl, and he actually had a spare moment to look up at his opponent.  
He was staring into his own eyes, dull and weary. He had popped several blood vessels, and his normally blue irises were somehow gray. His face was an odd combination of flushed red splotches, and stray tendrils of sweat-soaked hair, along with the usual blemishes, blackheads, and stubble. His shoulders were heaving, and he could taste sweat and iron on his tongue.  
There was a strange calm in the Mirror Trap and James knew that he was supposed to notice something finite in this moment.  
The glass where his sword was buried shattered, and the cracks began to spread to the rest of the pane. He saw them cross against his reflection. They split his chest, and bisected his face. He didn't know how long he'd been fighting here, but he had never seen a wall split. He had never seen a wall shatter, as this one did, and fall to his feet. And he had never seen a reflection stay, after the mirror had broken.  
He was standing there, on the sharp end of his own sword, with his own blood beginning to drip towards the hilt. Panic was already a deep part of his mindset, and now horror was taking control, and he began to back away, then screamed as the blade twitched in his chest.  
The wall behind him shattered, the walls on either side in the hallway shattered. He wasn't sure if he was going unconscious, or if it was the lack of reflective surfaces that was making the place dimmer. Soon, the ceiling was sprinkled in his hair. He was awake just long enough to feel the vision disappear, and feel the floor give out before he passed out, falling into nothingness, along with countless shards of glass.  
~~~  
Draped in velvets, silks, and tulle, the Queen inspected her mirror, and the scene it presented her.  
One peasant, in simple leather armor, had made it nearly two thirds of the way into the maze.  
She sighed, resigned. She was almost disappointed. He had been a fairly attractive fellow, and she wouldn't have minded being saved by him.  
"Mirror, mirror, on the wall  
"How many others will have to fall?"


End file.
